


Apparition

by conceptofzero



Category: BioShock
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:57:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ADAM from the last Little Sister in Fort Frolic is still surging through his veins when Jack hears voices. Familiar voices. Lightning arcs over his fist instinctively though what he's hearing is impossible. Jack’s heard every last one of those voices die, three by his hands and one by Sanders Cohen’s. The disciples are dead and Jack has the photos to prove it.  </p>
<p>He should turn his back and leave, help Cohen assemble his gruesome art and take the bathysphere out of Fort Frolic (assuming Cohen isn’t lying to him about that). But the voices speak again, talking over each other, and Jack needs to know exactly what’s happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apparition

The ADAM from the last Little Sister in Fort Frolic is still surging through his veins when Jack hears voices. Familiar voices. Lightning arcs over his fist instinctively though what he's hearing is impossible. Jack’s heard every last one of those voices die, three by his hands and one by Sanders Cohen’s. The disciples are dead and Jack has the photos to prove it. 

He should turn his back and leave, help Cohen assemble his gruesome art and take the bathysphere out of Fort Frolic (assuming Cohen isn’t lying to him about that). But the voices speak again, talking over each other, and Jack needs to know exactly what’s happening. If Cohen’s playing him, there’s going to be be an additional photo added to Cohen’s masterpiece, free of charge. Jack follows the sound, ready to throw an electrobolt at anything that moves. 

The conversation rises and falls, leading him towards one of the shops. Jack breaks the gate and slips inside quick, before security can send bots to bother him. This place looks like it’s one of the few that wasn’t looted, and as he makes his way past the display cases full of drugs, the voices draw him towards the back room. Jack presses his shoulder to the door, listening for a moment before he throws the door open. 

Four ghostly figures move around, holding a conversation that Jack can only pick up snippets from. He lowers his hand with relief. It’s just an ADAM hallucination, that’s all. It’s almost a relief, knowing that they really are dead and he doesn’t have to worry about fighting them twice. He flexes his hand, dissipating the energy, and begins to look around the room in case there’s something worth looting. 

“... in, before the smell follows you. So you’re the new investor huh?” That’s Martin Finnegan speaking. Jack glances over and finds that Martin isn’t looking at the others - he’s addressing Jack. That startles him and he waits for Martin’s gaze to shift, but it doesn’t. “Cohen said you’d be stopping by.” 

“Take a seat, we’ll fix you a drink...” The last (only) time Jack heard that voice, it was screaming for mercy, before the piano blew up. Fitzpatrick? The ghostly figure walks up and puts a hand on Jack’s chest. It’s not really touching him, not really, but he still feels the push as he’s gently guided to the couch. He should resist and break the hallucination, be on his way now that he knows what this is. Jack goes with it anyway, taking a seat on the old couch. The ghosts surround him, one pushing something into his hand. A drink he guesses, though while they’re semi-tangible, the drink certainly isn’t. “Go on, like Mr Cohen always says-”

“Bottoms up.” Cobb says in a bad impersonation and they laugh. There’s something bitter about it, more like a shared commiseration on their parts. Jack could almost laugh with them. He’s barely known Cohen an hour and he already can’t stand him and his temper and his furious flouncing the moment he thinks there’s been any criticism. It's a wonder these four made it years without trying to murder him.

The forth man leans in close, settling beside Jack. "New to Rapture? I can always tell." It takes Jack another moment to remember his name: Hector Rodriguez, the man from the bar. "Theres still colour in your cheeks."

"I-" He nearly answers before catching himself. They're not talking to him. They're talking to whoever the investor was. Jack's just living through their memories. It's the ADAM at work. That Little Sister must have harvested from one of them, or maybe all of the disciples before Jack found her.

He misses the next part, hearing a murmur and laughter that's forced. Another ghostly glass is pushed to his lips and he tastes nothing, but he feels the fingers presses to the sides of his mouth as Fitzpatrick tips it down his throat. "-better than Jolene."

"Nobody goes to see her sing..." Rodriguez seems to be getting closer, his voice cutting in and out as he almost curls against Jack. Not for the first time, today, Jack wonders exactly what qualifies someone to be one of Cohen's disciples. "... between us, Kyle's better than her. You want to see?"

Whoever Jack's filling in for must have said yes because the next thing he knows, one of the figures moves between his knees and woah, woah, wait a second. This is not what he was expecting. It’s not that he didn’t pick up any of this subtext but this isn’t the sort of memory he thought he’d barged in on. 

He can feel Hector’s hands on him and he’s joined on the other side by Martin, who slides a hand up Jack’s chest. Jack really needs to stand up and leave and let this memory play out without him around. There’s work to be done and the bathysphere and Cohen are both waiting for him, and Atlas has to be wondering what’s happened to Jack, and a million other reasons he shouldn’t be staying still. 

But he doesn’t move. Jack stays and the hands on him pull and prod, tugging Jack here and there. A ghostly pair of lips meets his and it’s like kissing the rain; light and damp and almost intangible. His mouth parts for them and the hallucination pushes into him, tasting faintly of ADAM. There’s a pair of hands on his pants and he feels them fumble with his belt. When he looks down, Jack finds they’re open and he’s not sure if the hallucination did that or if he did without thinking about it. Kyle’s looking up at Jack with a smirk on his face, dragging his fingers over Jack’s cock. “Shit,” Jack mutters. He can feel the weight of a hand on him, even if he can see right through those transparent fingers. 

“Boss-man said to give you a good time. And we’re...” One of those voices whispers in his ear. He’s only catching every other sentence, the things they’re saying tuning in and out like a distant radio station. Jack knows they aren’t really talking to him any more than they’re really touching him, but it’s hard not to feel like he’s part of a conversation that he should be participating to. “...whatever you want.” 

“It’s a lot to be handling on my own.” Kyle says and Jack just watches as Silas sinks down to join him on the floor. When they’re shoulder to shoulder, Jack reaches out and attempts to brush his fingers through their hair. While they can touch him, he can’t do the same, and his fingers just melt through them. It doesn’t seem to bother them at all. The memory plays out with or without him. “... fit it in.”

“You should try.” That’s Hector again, his hand dipping through Jack’s clothes to run over his chest. His fingers stop just above Jack’s cock, reaching out and then curling up again before they touch him. “Unless you think you can’t.” 

“Just watch me.” Silas says and Jack’s breath hitches in his chest as that ghostly figure slides his mouth over Jack’s cock. It’s not as warm as a real mouth is but it still feels good, wet and tight and with just the right amount of suction. Kyle rests his head on Jack’s thigh and waits his turn, his fingers lightly drumming on Jack’s knee. Hector’s mouth is on Jack’s neck and Martin’s got his fingers in Jack’s hair, pulling lightly on it. The mouth on his cock keeps on sucking, pushing lower and lower until nearly all of Jack is in his mouth. And then as quickly as he sank down, Silas comes up, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. The laughter comes a few seconds too late, surging up and filling the room. 

Kyle replaces Silas, not sinking nearly as deeply down on Jack, not until Silas takes hold of him and pushes his mouth down that is. He can feel Kyle gag around him, his fingers clutching at Jack’s knees. But he doesn’t pull up. He just looks up at Jack, sucking even as his shoulders heave now and then. 

Martin’s voice tunes in, sharp and then soft, “...cocksucker you’ll ever seen… fuck his mouth so hard even Cohen won’t…” Those hands are on him, tilting Jack’s head back so Hector has more surface to suck on. His mouth pulls hard on Jack’s skin and all Jack can wonder is if ADAM ghosts can leave a mark on your skin. It feels like they can. 

Silas lets Kyle up and the two of them take turns with Jack’s cock, each giving the other a push to sink down faster or harder. He’s harder than he would have thought possible from the attention of a pair of memories, and when he does glance down, he can see his shaft in their mouths, slightly visible through their semi-transparent heads. Kyle says something - to Jack? to Silas? he’s not sure - and when Silas pulls off, they both put their mouths on either side of Jack’s cock, moving up and down with him trapped between them. Jack’s hands look for something to hold onto, settling on the couch and digging into the cushions as he bites back moans. 

“You think the old pervert’s watching?” That’s Hector’s voice and the thought sends a chill through Jack. He sure hopes not. Jack almost gets up, almost tucks himself away and resigns himself to walking through Rapture with a hardon. That’s when Kyle takes the tip of Jack’s cock in his mouth and sucks on it hard, just as Silas does the same at the base of the shaft. Any thought of walking away disappears and all he can do is just moan as he throws his head back, losing himself in how good it feels. There are hands on his chest, on his thighs, stroking over Jack’s flesh and those mouths are busy making him forget the idea of walking out. 

“... kiss him, or somebody’s going to hear…” Silas tunes in and out, and Hector turns Jack’s head to the side, pushing their mouths together. That ADAM taste invades his mouth again, making him hungry for the thick red stuff. Kyle slides down his cock again and Jack just groans helplessly, feeling himself engulfed completely. His hands clench up, crushing the couch cushions in his fists. “Hold him down, fuck his mouth. Kyle likes it.” 

He feels Kyle gag before he hears him, and through Hector’s head, he sees the ghost in his lap struggle. Kyle’s hair shifts where someone else’s fingers must be, digging ruts in it and then pulling on the hair until it twists up. Jack’s hips thrust forward a few times into Kyle’s mouth and he wheezes softly at how wet and welcoming his mouth is. Hector draws back and Jack just pants loudly into the otherwise-empty room, hearing those sucking sounds as Kyle still keeps blowing Jack, even as he’s held down. 

“Don’t be greedy. Share some…” Martin’s laughing. There’s a glass in his hand with something faint in it and as Kyle finally lets up, Martin presses it to Jack’s mouth. Jack really could go for a drink right now but he doesn’t dare move while Hector’s hand wraps around Jack’s cock, giving it a squeeze. The men on the floor shift, and Kyle comes up on the couch while Hector kneels on the floor. 

Their laughter whines through Jack’s ears, dead men amused by a joke that he didn’t get to hear. Hector gives Jack a smile, still looking handsome even when he’s just a memory that belongs to someone else. Then he takes over for Kyle, slipping his mouth over the head of Jack’s cock and sucking while his fist keeps squeezing the base of Jack’s shaft. Kyle’s mouth is against Jack’s ear and he whispers softly while his hands curl in the neck of Jack’s sweater. “... invest and this won’t be the last time with us. Mr Sanders makes sure there’s always a return, one way or another. You could have us almost any day…” 

Hector’s fist strokes Jack, quick precise motions that are clearly meant to get him off. He’s sucking too, making sloppy sounds as his head bobs ever so slightly. Jack groans as he feels Hector’s tongue swirl around the head of his cock, and then does it again as he feels all those hands touching him. Kyle keeps whispering in his ear about all the things he’ll have if he just invests in Cohen’s work, and Martin drags his fingernails down Jack’s chest and Silas has his mouth on Jack’s right thigh, slowly working his way up. It’s a sensory overload. 

The fist around Jack quickly falls away and he suddenly finds himself with Hector’s lips wrapped around the base of his shaft, his cock buried in Hector’s mouth and part of his throat. It’s unbelievably tight and Hector just swallows hard around Jack. It’s too much for him to take, his cock twitching hard and then coming. Jack groans and his head falls back as his body arches involuntarily, unable to focus on anything except the mouth still sucking on him. His hand reaches out to grab Hector’s head and his fingers pass through the ghost, landing instead on his thigh and holding on while the last of his cum leaks out of him and just drips down Jack.

Jack sags back against the couch, his brain fried and his body still reacting, spasms running through his thighs. There’s a puddle of warmth radiating out from his dick to the rest of his body and Jack lies there, letting himself just enjoy the moment. 

But there’s a sound from outside, a clattering and then the sort of muttering Jack knows means splicers. He’s already made too much noise and wasted too much time here. The memory continues around him, still touching Jack, still going through motions that he’s finished with. He pulls himself to his feet passing through the ghosts, looking for something to clean himself up with. There’s something left on the floor, some sort of shirt or something, and he wipes himself down with that. 

As he tucks himself away and does his fly up, Jack finds himself glancing around, half expecting Cohen to chime in with some sort of comment. But there’s nothing from him. It’s just Jack and the ghosts. They’ve shifted again, changing position while Jack wasn’t looking. The voices cut in and out and Jack wonders when exactly this memory ends. He’ll never know and he can’t say he regrets that much. This has been a strange interlude but it’s time to put Fort Frolic behind him. He’s got photos to deliver and a bathysphere to board. 

Jack takes one last look at them before letting himself out of the back room and into the main shop. The ghosts play their parts… all except for Martin Finnegan. He turns his head to look at the door and, for a moment, Jack would swear Martin is looking at him. The ghost raises his glass in a toast and Jack quickly steps back, shutting the door mostly out of instinct. 

His heart’s hammering in his chest and he’s reluctant to take a second look, to make sure he wasn’t confusing himself. But when he opens the door, he finds the room empty. All the ghosts are gone, and the only sign anyone was here is a streaky mess on the floor and a dirty shirt in the corner. Jack shuts the door for the second time and leaves quickly, half-convinced that if he stays, he’ll hear them calling his name.


End file.
